


Fractured

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Referenced Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 00:57:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3509195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gadreel Novak is depressed and haunted by his past. He is also trying to raise Delilah Sarver. He is finally taking steps to alleviate some of his listlessness with the help of his brother, Castiel, when life throws a wrench into things; Delilah gets into a car crash on the way home from a friend's. In the aftermath, Castiel and Doctor Winchester try to keep Gadreel on his feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fractured

**Author's Note:**

> For the Gadreel Big Bang. Art by [lizellysking](http://lizellysking.tumblr.com) (link to art to be added when it's posted)
> 
> Apologies in advance for any and all inaccuracies of hospital policy, therapy conduct, and depiction of depression.

Gadreel twists the faucet to turn the hot water on. The old shower head sputters like it does every time, cold water shooting out and tapering off to only start again. It takes a few starts and stops before the stream collects into something he can step into, and it then takes a few moments to reach the temperature he wants. Skin prickling, Gadreel reaches for his soap to begin washing himself.  


He closes his eyes as he turns around to wet his hair after wiping soap from his face. Last night he once again found himself without peaceful sleep. The nightmares still will not leave him be, and he can not use the sleeping pills anymore. They make him feel too slow; he can not operate near at all following waking up. It is annoying, and Gadreel feels like he is drowning both ways, but he will not bring himself to say it is unfair. He has done too much. He has caused many sleepless nights for others to be afforded comfortable sleep, as much as he craves it.

His hair does not get washed anything near well enough to be respectable before Gadreel just lets his arms dangle at his sides. The shower head continues to shoot hot water at him.

-

Mondays are always the hardest. They are school and the beginnings of another week of pressure. It is the longest shower he takes all week. 

Gadreel spreads peanut butter across the slice of bread on the plate in front of him. The pattern on the plate is halfway scraped off and halfway faded from time. It is his favorite thing in the kitchen, and he makes every school lunch on it. He thinks the need to prepare Delilah’s food on this specific plate is a probable sign of obsession, but there is no one to call him on his behavior. Not any more. 

With precision uncalled for, Gadreel places the peanut butter covered bread on top of the slice he already covered with jelly. He makes sure the slices line up as exactly as they are able, and then he cuts the crust off. He will eat it later, after he takes Delilah to school. The sandwich goes in Delilah’s flower sandwich case, and that in turn goes inside her princess lunchbox. Next to and on top of the flower case, Gadreel places fruit snacks, a ziplock bag of almonds, and a juice box with 100% juice. 

Finished, he goes upstairs to ensure Delilah is up like he does every weekday. Today, she is up and dressed already. She is reading, and Gadreel wishes it was not necessary to disturb her in another ten minutes. Reading is her favorite thing to do recently; Gadreel has brought her to the library every Saturday since the beginning of the school year, and Delilah never fails to check out at least three books. It is heartwarming. 

Gadreel wanders to his bedroom to let Delilah have her ten minutes in peace. His bed looks inviting, but he refuses to even sit on it. He will make it through today with no wasted time. There will be no helplessness or anger. Forcing himself to find something to do, he goes to his closet. It is already organized: jackets at the left to his shirts to his pants on the right. The arrangement is the one it has always been since he felt the need to organize. He thumbs at one of his older jackets, almost hidden the way he has thrust its hanger against the other ones. It hurts to wear it still, but he misses it so much.

His hand drops away as if he had been burned. Wallowing is wasting time. He had his chance to, already. It has been years. 

-

Delilah’s day at school was a good one. Her history test has been pushed back, and her friends Stephanie and Tayler made up during lunch. She is a ball of excited energy. Gadreel does not even have to force the smile on his face; seeing her happy is one of the things that ever manage to draw him out. 

Delilah talks until they reach the house. There, she gets distracted looking for an after school snack. From that, she drifts to her homework, and from there Gadreel knows she will move on to either playing with her dolls or playing on her Wii. 

Gadreel sits down on his couch. He sits, still as a statue, for a long time before pulling out his sketchbook. There are multiple concept pieces he needs to complete.

-

Going grocery shopping is always a chore. Gadreel can feel his face pull into an expression of disdain. He goes while Delilah is at school, and it is an idea shared by every guardian of a child. The grocery store is, more often than not, chaos. 

When Gadreel makes it to checkout, he lifts an annoyed eyebrow at the man in front of him in the line. The man clearly has more than fifteen items, and everyone knows it. Gadreel cannot fathom why he insists on being rung up in this line; he ignored what line this was, or he simply did not care. It is annoying. 

Gadreel sighs as the man argues with the cashier about his items. Today is looking to be a bad day.

-

He was not wrong. One of his clients canceled, and Delilah had to be picked up earlier from school because she threw up. 

-

It is with trepidation that Gadreel pulls out his phone to call the number. He needs help – has needed help. It is not normal to be this listless and monotone. Swallowing hard, he thinks about how he would feel if Delilah had grown to be like this after what happened. It pulls Gadreel up short, has him put his head in his hands. The thought of Delilah being anything like him hurts. 

Gadreel leaves his head hung while the phone dials. It rings until the last one, and only then is it picked up.

The answering voice is hesitant. “…Gadreel?”

”Castiel.”

There is the faint sound of something being shoved aside. “Brother. What is it?”

"Castiel…" Gadreel has no way to put it into words. He has not thought of his problems, ignoring them in the hopes they will simply vanish. They are there, manifested in everything, but Gadreel does not know how to pick them apart to make Castiel understand. "I need help. I need you here."

His brother’s voice is distressed. “What’s wrong? Is Delilah okay? Are you? What happened?”

"Delilah is okay. Nothing happened. Castiel, I need help. I…do not wish to be like this anymore." There is silence on Castiel’s end of the line. Gadreel swallows. "Please, brother."

Castiel swallows, audible on the phone. “I’m not denying you, Gadreel. I am simply…shocked. You’ve holed yourself away from everyone for a long time.”

"I–"

"I don’t want nor need excuses and apologizes. I can catch a flight tomorrow. I’m glad you’re reaching out. Thank you."

"I do not believe that sentiment will last long."

"You’re actually talking. I think it will. Do you need me to stay on the line?"

Gadreel hunches his shoulders tighter. “No, Castiel. Thank you. You may return to what you were doing.”

"If you’re sure?" It is said hesitantly. 

"Yes. I will pick you up tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I’ll call you when I land. Until then."

Gadreel hangs up, his head still in his hand.

-

Gadreel turns the shower off, and he reaches for a towel. The soft material picks up the water droplets covering his body before being deposited back onto the towel hanger on the door. He unfolds his clothes for the day and picks up his pajamas from the floor. The bathroom door opens, and Gadreel walks to his bedroom to dump his clothes in his laundry hamper. He has to prepare Delilah’s food for today and pack her swimming suit. Her friend Mikayla had invited her over for the evening. Delilah had excitedly chirped at him at whole car ride yesterday, and she was certain they would swim in her friend’s pool. Gadreel did not think it likely, but from what he has gathered about Mikayla is that she is very persuasive. The two of them might convince her mother to let them swim. 

When Gadreel collects Delilah from her room, she is still just as excited as she was yesterday. Mikayla has a dog who she is excited to play with, Mikayla’s mom is an excellent southern cook, Mikayla said her pool is heated. On and on Delilah chatters, and Gadreel listens as she goes. She will have a good time tonight. 

Gadreel waves as Delilah trots onto campus. He will see her at eight.

-

Castiel calls at a bit after noon. Gadreel’s eyebrows raise despite themselves at that; he’d suspected that his brother would pick a later flight, spending his morning getting whatever affairs he has in order. Castiel admits that he’d kind of rushed that part, and it’s likely only because his boss likes him that he even still has a job to come back to. Gadreel does not know what to say to that. Their phone call turns awkward very quickly, and Castiel hangs up after asking how long he needs to wait for his brother. 

When Gadreel pulls up to where Castiel is sitting on his suitcase right outside of baggage claim, the smile on Castiel’s face is blinding. Gadreel exits his car to take Castiel’s things and instead pulled into a fierce hug.

"I haven’t seen you in forever, and the first thing you’re going to do is grab my luggage?"

Gadreel brings his arms around his brother. “Yes?”

That answer gets him a sigh as Castiel pulls away and makes a pointed show of putting his suitcase into Gadreel’s trunk himself. He makes his way into the passenger seat, buckling in as Gadreel puts the car into drive. The radio’s volume gets turned off. Castiel turns to face him as they pull into the first intersection outside of the airport. 

"I think now would be a good time to explain what exactly you want me to help with, Gadreel. What would you have me do?"

A frustrated noise escapes Gadreel. Castiel simply keeps looking at him, unrushed. He silently sits as Gadreel tries to form words. Gadreel makes it to another stoplight before answering. 

"I would appreciate it if you could…force me outside of myself. I am afraid I have become…absent, if you will." His grip on the steering wheel tightens. "I would be devastated if Delilah had become like this." 

Castiel gives Gadreel a look he can not decipher. “Not that getting better for your child isn’t a good reason, but you haven’t considered yourself at all, have you?”

"Of course I have."

He is lying, and Castiel sees right through him. “There was a time when you thought only of yourself. I miss it, sometimes.”

"Look how selfishness made things turn out."

Castiel turns away, a sigh on his lip. “So what exactly am I doing? Slapping sense into you when you’re distant?”

"You sound like Gabriel."

"Gabriel is one of the few who still talk to me." The car gets even tenser when that slips out, unbidden. "Gadreel, I didn’t mean–"

"It is fine." 

Gadreel turns the radio on.

-

Castiel sets himself up in the guest bedroom, and Gadreel gives him a quick tour of the house. The two are still awkward, but Gadreel tries to not let it bother him. He reacted unreasonably; he knows how much Castiel’s actions and affiliation with him have rendered him a black sheep in the family. 

Tea gets started when they reach the kitchen, and Castiel searches the cabinets to make something. Gadreel does not ask. Together, they sit in silence.

-

Gadreel’s breathing stops when he answers his phone and it’s a hospital telling him Delilah’s been in a car crash. 

Castiel picks up Gadreel’s keys, and Gadreel does not remember what comes after. 

-

It is quiet in the hospital room. It has been since the doctor and nurses finished explaining what happened. It has been since Castiel went home to get sleep; he promised to take care of informing Delilah’s school tomorrow and ensuing paperwork. 

The monitors blink. Dim light from the hallway creeps in from behind the window blinds. Delilah rests in her bed, little body still so fragile from the crash. Faintly, like he is imagining it, Gadreel hears the room door open. 

Whatever doctor or nurse entered is much too quiet for Gadreel’s liking. They are simply standing there, saying and doing nothing. From his understanding, whoever it is does not even have a reason to be in Delilah’s room; Delilah’s monitors have been consistent all night, it is an unreasonable hour to sponge wash her or take chart notes, and Gadreel did not press the call button. Their presence makes him uncomfortable. 

Almost as if the person catches his growing discomfort, they start walking deeper into the room. Their footsteps are nearly inaudible, and Gadreel is surprised when it is Doctor Winchester who rests at his chair side. He, from what little Gadreel has witnessed, does not seem like the type to have silent footsteps at night. 

The doctor places a comforting hand on Gadreel’s shoulder, and Gadreel is tempted to cry.

He does not.

-

The water is cold. Hot water is a luxury, even if he uses it at burning extremes. He cannot bring himself to turn the faucet; Delilah right now has nothing, so he will have nothing.

Painfully, the spray pounds against him. Drops of water drip from his hair, not completely submerged under the shower head. Gadreel closes his eyes as he reaches for his soap. Today, he will not allow himself to have a long shower. 

-

Three days, and Delilah still hasn’t woke up.

-

Castiel is trying, Gadreel can realize that. His brother did not come here to actually play this big of a baby sitter, so he quells his annoyance. It is not his brother’s fault that he is irritable with the most little things now. He forces his mouth into the shape of a smile, and he accepts the burnt grilled cheese and ignores the mess Castiel has made of the kitchen. 

He is not hungry. His appetite has never been very large, and now it feels nonexistent. Gadreel glances at his brother, who in turn raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. The message is clear: Gadreel is to eat all of the sandwich. Irritated at being treated like a child, he glares. Still, Gadreel eats the sandwich. Castiel is only trying to help.

-

The hospital is as bleak as it always is. People are dying, and people are coming out worse for wear. It is facts like these that Gadreel can never forget. Especially since he has to keep coming here to watch different people he loves wither away. 

Today, Delilah is still unconscious. Her information on the monitors is still the same as it was yesterday. It discouraging, but the medical staff have not yet started giving him pitying faces. Gadreel refuses to consider the option that these doctors are simply better actors than last time. Thoughts like that do not have a place in his mind; he can not let himself consider them. 

Castiel fiddles with the lid of his traveler cup. He is often able to tell when Gadreel’s thoughts wander into even more negative territory, but neither of them know how to approach discussing anything. Too often, Castiel has said the wrong thing. Too often, Gadreel oversimplifies what he wants. They are quite a pair, Gadreel thinks.

Just as Castiel opens his mouth, the room door shifts. In walks one of the nurse. She shoots an apologetic smile and says it is time to wash Delilah. With a nod, Gadreel lifts himself from his seat. Castiel follows suit, and he walks behind Gadreel as they leave the room, closing the door behind him. His eyes burn on Gadreel’s back while Gadreel guides them to the nearest available seats. 

"Gadreel," he says as he sits down, his traveler cup grasped firmly. 

Gadreel turns his gaze on his brother. Castiel also has circles under his eyes, and his shoulders sag. He nods.

"A stupid question, but how are you holding up?" Castiel narrows his eyes and swallows thickly. "I’ve noticed a lot of disconcerting things recently."

Gadreel keeps his brother’s eye. “I am not okay.”

"Obviously, Gadreel." A frustrated noise. "You haven’t been for a long time. I want to know how specifically bad you’re doing. I need to know what you need from me."

Gadreel turns away. His hands clench, and his jaw tightens. The thought of getting help from his brother is unappealing now, despite how much he wanted it almost a week ago. He wants to scream and rage, and he wants to close his eyes and not wake up until Delilah does. If he is entirely honest with himself, he does not think he would want to wake up at all. Gritting his teeth, he forces himself to look back at Castiel. He wanted to get better for Delilah, and he will. If Delilah does not wake up, he can re-spiral. 

"I am thinking of going to sleep and never waking up again. I do not feel the need to harm myself, but if it were to happen, it would happen. I would not allow myself to die with Delilah in the picture."

Castiel’s eyes close, and his answer is quiet. “I think we should get you a therapist.”

At that, Gadreel tenses. It is something that has been suggested to him many times throughout the years. Never has it sat well with him. With the way their mother raised them, her love parceled out in her office and all lectures and advice giving there as well, the mere thought of sitting in an office to talk to someone is appalling. Examining Castiel, it is plain to see he is disdainful as well. 

"I would rather not."

Another frustrated sigh. “You think I don’t know that? But it really helps, Gadreel.”

"Have you been to a therapist?"

Silence meets his question. Castiel’s body coils tighter, and Gadreel is sure his brother is going to lash out at him. Instead, he breathes through his nose, seemingly going through a cool down process. Gadreel remains still, lets him finish.

"Yes. It was uncomfortable, and I shared things I wish that I hadn’t needed to, but it was helpful. I never looked her in the eye. I don’t know if she judged me, but she did her job. I processed what I needed to process."

Gadreel wants to ask what drove his brother to seek out therapy, but it is none of his business. He smoothes out an imaginary wrinkle on his jeans. The nurse should be done washing Delilah now, and he spares a thought to if she has time to look for them to inform them. It would be a welcome distraction. As it is, he turns to look at his brother.

"I suppose saying ‘I will think about it’ will not satisfy you?"

Castiel weakly smiles. “Got it in one.”

"How often does she like to see her patients?"

"Once or twice a week, if possible. I don’t know about the therapists here. I really do believe talking things out will help you, brother."

Gadreel shrugs. He does not like to talk. “My answer is still I will think about it.”

"I just want you to get better, Gadreel. I feel like I’ve lost you. You haven’t been you since Abner. I miss you."

The name sends waves of remorse through him. Gadreel has to take a deep breath. 

"Just like that, Gadreel. You haven’t gotten over it still, and it’s been years. I still don’t even completely understand what happened."

Castiel’s eyes are soft, and Gadreel hates it. He stands up. The conversation is over for now. In the hospital, Castiel can not yell out what else he wants to say after him. 

-

Castiel left in frustration, threats of continued conversation bitten out while he dragged himself out of the hospital. Gadreel thinks that he should feel bad, but he just feels relieved. He sits by Delilah’s bed, and he works on pieces. Money has to come from somewhere. 

Gadreel startles when he hears a whistle. He pulls himself out of his headspace, and turns to find Doctor Winchester behind him. 

"The painting’s looking good. I wouldn’t have thought painting cramped up in a hospital chair was all that comfortable, though." He lifts a brow at Gadreel’s makeshift workstation. "Nor would I have thought it’d be neat."

Gadreel feels a shrug is the appropriate social response, so he does. He has always been a neat painter, but the doctor has no way of knowing that. Examining what he has completed so far, he shrugs again. It is what it is; it’s a forest. “Thank you.”

A smile comes across Doctor Winchester’s face. “No problem. You’ve got talent.” 

He walks forward, and Gadreel finally notices he’s carrying two hospital coffees. His left hand goes out, an offering. Gadreel nods and takes the cup. It is still hot.

"You looked like you could use it. You’ve been with Delilah almost everyday, all hours. You’ve got the worried and sleepless look going for you."

At that, Gadreel bristles. What type of patients does Doctor Winchester deal with that he feels the need to comment on how Gadreel does not leave Delilah’s side for more than necessary? It is–

"I see the gears turning, and I promise I didn’t mean anything by it. I think it’s nice that you care for your daughter so much, and it’s nice that you’ve got the time off or just have the luxury to stay by her. Simply foot in my mouth, I swear." 

Gadreel does not entirely relax, but he accepts the explanation. He nods to show that. The doctor’s lip quirks up on the right side, the smallest hint of a smile. 

"Mind if I take a seat? My brother’s hounding me about his patients, and I’d like a few minutes of calm. He doesn’t know I treat patients this far down yet.”

"You may take a seat," Gadreel answers. 

The smile on the doctor’s face grows into a full one with teeth, and he draws the chair Castiel usually sits in up to Gadreel. He folds into it, makes himself appear smaller. Gadreel supposes it is something the doctor does to help ease his patients; the man is definitely one of the tallest men Gadreel has seen in his lifetime outside of sports magazines. 

"So, how are you holding up? Please tell me you’re eating and sleeping; we don’t need you falling over and put in a bed as well."

Gadreel raises an irritated eyebrow. “Do you always default on humor such as this?”

"Yeah. It’s hit and miss, but when it hits, it hits well. But seriously. You taking care of yourself?"

"As much as I suppose I am able, given circumstances. I do not wish to trouble you."

Doctor Winchester shakes his head. “I know we look overworked – we are – but all the staff here want to help. If you slip, it’s okay.”

"Thank you."

The awkward statement earns Gadreel a laugh. As the two of them talk, Gadreel finds he likes Doctor Winchester’s company. The thought sends guilt throughout his whole body.

-

Papers describing the benefits of therapy are on his bed when he returns home. Gadreel takes a deep, steadying breath. Castiel is only trying to help, like Gadreel asked him to do.

He picks them up to look through them. Gadreel ignores the flashier pieces of paper and starts looking at the therapists. None of them sound appealing, so he tries to see if Castiel printed him some type of client review. A few client reviews were printed, and Gadreel organizes the list of therapists in order of their rankings. He will ask Castiel to pick one for him from the top three. His brother would know what to look for better than him. 

Gadreel removes his day clothes and places them in his hamper before climbing into bed. Sleep does not come quickly.

-

In the morning, Castiel shakes his head when asked to pick from the therapists. 

"This therapist is for you, Gadreel. I don’t feel comfortable enough to pick one for you; there was a period of time I knew you well, but we both know I don’t anymore.”

"I do not know what I would need out of a therapist."

Castiel puts his coffee on the counter. “Which one sounded the most bearable?”

"Is this how you chose yours?"

"No." His mouth quirks up. "I went to the one farthest from me that was still in driving range. You could say I was paranoid."

Gadreel nods before looking down to the papers in his hand. “I suppose I will just go to the one with the most positive reviews.” 

"You can change to a different one, Gadreel. Your decision isn’t set in stone."

He nods. Gadreel does not think he could deal with needing to see more than one therapist, but if he must. Castiel’s hand reaches for his and squeezes.

"This is a step forward, Gadreel."

"I suppose."

Castiel squeezes his hand again, accepting Gadreel’s answer for what it is. He leaves their hands jointed the whole time they sit together.

\- 

Delilah is still not better.

-

The shower is ice cold, again. The spray feels like needles piercing his skin, and Gadreel rests his head against the tiles. He had woken from yet another nightmare; they have increased in frequency since the crash. He wants to just make it all stop.

His face lifts to get into the spray. He has to close his eyes and clench his jaw as his face gets assaulted. The cold seeps into his pours, and he lets it. It feels, not good, never good, but necessary. 

This shower is the longest he has allowed himself. By the time he leaves, Castiel is waiting outside the door for him, eyes haunted. His eyes frantically search Gadreel’s body for things that are not there and will not be. He had not lied when he said he would not do anything while he is taking care of Delilah. Nonetheless, Gadreel lets Castiel steer him to his bed and does not protest being coddled. If it will make Castiel feel better, he will allow it. 

-

Doctor Winchester has taken to smiling at Gadreel when they see each other, regardless of how haggard he looks. Gadreel tries to return it, but it is difficult the more days Delilah stays unconscious. The nurses are starting to have worry etched into bodies, and though the pity has not started to show on their faces, Gadreel knows it is only a matter of time. Pity will always eventually turn up when a loved one does not return in the given timeframe. 

He brushes some of Delilah’s hair. It is losing its shine, and Gadreel has to swallow. She has been out of it for past a week, now. It is hard to believe. Gadreel’s throat is tight. Mikayla, though her injuries are intense, is awake and lucid. Her father is also faring as well as can be expected after a nonfatal crash. It makes Gadreel’s stomach turn; why is Delilah not awake?

The day passes slowly. Gadreel’s hands are little more than fists for a large portion of it, and his stomach forgotten. He sits by Delilah’s side, only leaving to relieve his bladder and let the nurse wash Delilah. Nothing gets done; he just sits, gaze either on the wall or on Delilah. 

-

His therapist is a small woman, her body held tightly and her feet in flats. Gadreel tries to take Castiel’s advice and keeps his eyes off of her when they reach her office. The sound of a pen is clear after the two of them settle. After about a minute, she speaks.

"How about you tell me why you’ve decided to talk to a therapist?"

Gadreel blinks, throat constricting. “I wish to better myself.”

"Alright." It’s not said like she’s feeling awkward, despite the silence Gadreel left where he supposes she wanted him to elaborate. "We’ll come back to what you mean by that, but what brought this desire about?"

"I am the guardian of a child…she deserves a parent that is the best they can be. She needs someone engaged."

"And you’re not engaged?"

Gadreel curls his fingers deeply into his palms. “No. I have not been as engaged as I would like to be for a long time.”

"How long?" 

Gadreel doesn’t answer.

"It’s alright if you don’t wish to disclose information, Gadreel, but know that I can only help you if you talk to me. What would you like to discuss today?"

Gadreel does not know where to even start with that.

-

Castiel smiles at him when he comes back home after his appointment.

"I’m proud of you, Gadreel."

"I said little at all."

Gadreel is pulled into a hug from his brother. “It doesn’t matter. You’re going, and you’re going to try. I didn’t speak of anything of consequence for a long time.”

"How long did you see your therapist?"

Castiel pulls away. “Years.” He heads into the kitchen, Gadreel behind him. “I hated it, so if you’re feeling like it’s daunting, it is.”

"You know how to sell this to me so well, brother."

Castiel’s lips twitch. “Well, honesty is the building block for everything. Admitting there’s something wrong sucks. It’s worse trying to fix it.”

"I am finding that out."

"Look at you. You’ll be annoyed into getting better."

"I am almost positive it does not work like that."

"I wish it did." His shoulders hunch, and his body deflates. "Talking is exhausting."

Gadreel hesitantly lifts a hand. “Castiel?”

"It’s nothing. Just, I try to never think about it. Not a healthy coping mechanism, but," Castiel shrugs.

"Alright."

The two of them awkwardly shuffle around each other as they each collect food for dinner. They eat in silence, Gadreel watching his brother while Castiel avoids eye contact. 

-

This time, Gadreel turns the knob as far as it can to the left. He wants it to really hurt, and cold water does not do it. The pain from ice does not last the whole day.

-

Gadreel does not startle when Doctor Winchester places a hand on his shoulder this time; he has determined the sound of his footsteps now. During the day, the doctor’s footsteps are heavy. At night, they are almost undetectable. Gadreel does not understand why he quiets his weight during the night – footsteps are not loud enough to bother most, if any patient is awake that late – but he does not ask. He and Doctor Winchester are but acquaintances. 

"How about we go get some coffees? Every time I see you, you never have any."

"Is your brother annoying you again?"

Doctor Winchester laughs. “No. He’s at home, sleeping finally. I just thought I’d spend some time with you, give you some company. Haven’t seen your husband in a few days.”

"My husband?"

"The guy in a trench?" Doctor Winchester’s face contorts. "Oh shit, he’s not your husband, is he?"

"No. Castiel is my brother."

"Oh, um, sorry about the assumption. It’s usually always the parents or grandparents at a kid’s side."

"It is fine."

Doctor Winchester turns as Gadreel finally rises out of his seat. “Have you eaten?”

"I am not a patient, Doctor."

"No, but no one’s seen you in the cafeteria. So, you should get some food while we’re getting coffee. Stay away from the soup. Everything else tastes better than usual hospital food. Not great, but it’s a step up."

"Alright."

They walk without speaking the rest of the way to the cafeteria. At the cafeteria, Doctor Winchester directs Gadreel to the coffee machines. He fumbles a bit putting more water and coffee grounds into the machine for the next person who wants coffee, but his hands are steady as he pours a cup for each of them. Smiling, he hands one to Gadreel, lid off. 

"Jess bought some awesome coffee cream if you like coffee cream. I know I kinda just assumed you liked it black last time." He picks up a creamer and waves it before pouring some into his cup.

"Is it not against any rules to have doctors stash creamer in the cafeteria? Do you not have special coffee rooms of your own?"

Doctor Winchester rolls his eyes. “Patients deserve the good stuff, Gadreel.”

"If you are sure."

"No one’s gonna get in trouble. There’s nothing in this creamer that’s not in the ones pre-approved."

"Alright." He takes the coffee creamer from the doctor.

Doctor Winchester brings the hot coffee to his lips, drinking it without blowing it. Gadreel leaves his lid off. The coffee is too hot for him, and he would like to not burn himself in the cafeteria of a hospital. He lets himself be guided to the food line. There, Doctor Winchester walks him through what he should get and what tastes good versus what is nutritious. Gadreel does not really care, but the sound of Doctor Winchester going on is relaxing, and he does not want to be rude. 

Gadreel picks up potatoes and a sandwich; Doctor Winchester puts the equivalent of a salad on his, and he brings them to a table to eat. The table is the most secluded a hospital table can be. As Gadreel takes his first bite out of his sandwich, Doctor Winchester smiles at him. 

"Doesn’t it feel nice to actually eat?"

Gadreel finishes the food in his mouth. “I suppose.”

The doctor’s smile doesn’t wane, and he just starts eating his own food. Gadreel notes it’s a methodical way of eating, more precise than what normally constitutes the act. Everything gets scooped off Doctor Winchester’s plate into his mouth. Because of this, Gadreel finishes his meal first; a sandwich takes little time to eat, and his serving of potato was small. 

When Doctor Winchester finishes his food, he collects Gadreel’s tray for him. Gadreel does not resist, and he walks with the doctor to the trashcan and tray disposal. 

"This was nice, Gadreel."

"It was. Thank you."

Doctor Winchester’s lips quirk at that for reasons Gadreel does not understand. “Make sure you eat. I’m not gonna be able to hound you all the time.”

"Obviously."

"Good. I should actually go do my job now, I suppose."

Gadreel nods. “That would be a good idea.”

"Ha ha. I’ll catch you around?"

Gadreel nods, and Doctor Winchester tips his head before making his leave. Gadreel returns to Delilah’s room.

-

The room is just as it was last session. Gadreel does not know what else he should have expected. His therapist gives him an appraising look, and this marks when he turns his head away again.

"You show no interest in having eye contact with me. Is this a thing for you or is it because I’m your therapist?"

Gadreel chooses to not answer, and he hears a movement. He still doesn’t look. 

"What would you like to talk about today, Gadreel?"

-

The water today is scalding. It is not even morning yet. Heaving, Gadreel stays on the floor of the shower for a long time; he does not know how long. All he knows is it is his fault it is his fault it is his fault oh god there is so much blood gadreel it hurts gadreel it hurts what’s happening –

-

Castiel is the first thing he sees, and the first thing he feels is his bed. He is dry. Confused, Gadreel looks to his brother who is wringing his hands.

"I think you were having a panic or anxiety attack. I…heard a thud and you wouldn’t respond to me, so I picked the bathroom lock."

Gadreel turns away from his brother and curls in on himself. 

"I also noticed that the water was at an extreme. Gadreel, what happened?"

"Nothing." Gadreel grips his blanket.

"That’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told, and you have told me many. I can see where the water burned you. I’m not letting you out of your bed until you tell me." Castiel’s eyes narrow. "You know I’m stronger than you at the moment, brother."

Gadreel resolutely does not look at his brother. He can sense Castiel’s irritation grow in tandem with his worry. He remains as he is.

The room is silent except for Gadreel’s blood pounding and his brother’s puffs of breath. Castiel shifts every so often, but he does not leave. Gadreel’s fingers are white, he is gripping his blanket so hard. He closes his eyes; he surely will out stubborn his brother. 

After Gadreel does not know how long, he feels a hand place itself hesitantly on him, right under his shoulder blade. Castiel presses down with too much pressure, taking the touch from what Gadreel assumes is supposed to be comforting to desperate. Gadreel opens his eyes. He does not turn around.

"Gadreel, please? You’re scaring me."

"I do not wish to discuss it."

Castiel lets out a frustrated huff. “Will you talk about it with your therapist?”

"I did."

The statement is met with silence. Gadreel closes his eyes again, and tries to awkwardly shrug his brother’s hand off. 

"Are you…discussing what happened with Abner?"

Gadreel hunches tighter into himself. His body does not have much more room to move into itself. Castiel, thankfully, says nothing at all.

The two of them stay there until Gadreel eventually unfurls himself and murmurs they should get some sleep with the few hours they still have left. Castiel does not leave, sliding in behind his brother.

-

The actual morning is rife with tension. Castiel, Gadreel can tell, wants to talk things over. He will not bring it up today, Gadreel knows. His brother can thankfully sometimes tell when to leave things alone. 

He puts the coffee on and waits for it to brew as Castiel makes eggs and toast for the two of them. Today is not going to be a good day.

-

Gadreel slashes paint across his illustration board. This client wants a painterly piece, and today is as good a day as any to do this particular commision. 

Castiel is at the hospital, a promise to call should anything new happen. He had been hesitant to leave, but Gadreel had said he would lose his mind with him at home. Gadreel wishes to be at the hospital, but he fears he will not get work finished there today. That, and he thinks time apart from Castiel will be good. Today, he stays at home to get work done. 

Copper brown hits the board and finds its way onto Gadreel’s fingers and hands. Red slips between the browns and blues and into the cracks in skin. Transparent gloss gets dotted into the waters and reflective lights from it. His paintbrush gets replaced for the edges of his palette knife. That gets replaced for another brush, of which gets replaced for yet another sized brush. More blue gets glazed on top of shadows and muted, mixed brown overlays background warms. 

Gadreel does not stop for lunch.

By the time Castiel returns home, Gadreel has moved on to a second commission, his painting of the day placed delicately on the kitchen counter for Gadreel to photograph tomorrow in natural light. It is a painting of his client and their dog at a park.

-

Doctor Winchester is loitering outside of Delilah’s room when Gadreel walks up to it. There is a smile on his face. Gadreel slowly stops in front of him. 

"I’ve got some good news, Gadreel. Delilah woke up for a bit." He shakes his head when Gadreel attempts to open his mouth. "She wasn’t lucid for long, but this is really good."

Gadreel nods, relief flooding through his entire body. He feels like he could collapse from it. Practically boneless, he steps inside Delilah’s hospital room behind Doctor Winchester.

"If all goes according to plan, she’ll wake up for longer periods each time and coherency will improve. I’m sorry you weren’t here for the first wake up."

Gadreel simply nods as he sits next to Delilah, grabbing onto her hand. The doctor behind him shifts, but Gadreel does not care. Delilah woke up; she is going to be okay. 

"I’ll leave you alone. I’m not going to need to bring you lunch again?"

"I do not think I want to leave my spot, doctor."

Doctor Winchester moves closer. “Gadreel, it’s crucial you take care of yourself, especially now Delilah’s showing signs of improvement.”

"Once again, I am not one of your patients."

"No, but you’re the guardian of one of them. I’d say that made it my business what you do with yourself, wouldn’t you?"

"I suppose."

"Good. I’ll see you at lunch time."

Gadreel turns to face Doctor Winchester and lifts an eyebrow. “You are very forward today.”

"You’re up to it today." And with that, he leaves the room. 

Gadreel shrugs the statement off before pulling out his phone. Castiel needs to be updated.

-

At around one fifteen, Delilah’s door opens. Doctor Winchester steps inside, an eyebrow raised. Gadreel stands; he fears that not going would try the doctor’s patience, and he does not want to test that today. 

Doctor Winchester smiles as Gadreel walks towards him, and he leads the way to the cafeteria. Gadreel studies him out of the corner of his eye.

"Do you usually pay this much attention to the family of your patients?"

That gets a nod. “All the ones that don’t take care of themselves or seem lonely, anyway.”

"That is a broad assumption for you to be making."

"And I’m just as briskly reminded of that when someone feels like I’ve crossed a boundary. You tell me to get lost for real, and I’m gone, Gadreel. I won’t harass you."

Gadreel shallowly nods. “That is good to know.”

"I imagine. Do you want coffee today?"

Gadreel shakes his head, but he follows Doctor Winchester to the coffee table anyway. He watches as the doctor makes pours the liquid into a cup and forgoes cream today; perhaps today is going to be a long day. Doctor Winchester takes a long sip, and as he closes his eyes Gadreel notices the tiredness in his face. The doctor looks extremely drained. Before Gadreel can say anything, he is being guided to the line for food. Gadreel does not know if what he was about to say was predicted and unwelcome or if it was simply the doctor not noticing Gadreel was preparing to speak. Either way, Gadreel drops it.

Today, Gadreel picks up meat covered in gravy and helpings of peas and potatoes. Doctor Winchester chooses carrots instead of peas, and he takes them to the same table as last time. Heavily, he sits. Gadreel follows.

"How is your day?"

Doctor Winchester glances away from his fork to Gadreel’s face. “I’d prefer not to talk about it.”

"Alright. How is your brother?"

"Insufferable, as always. Yours?"

"Fine. He was ecstatic about Delilah."

The doctor smiles. “I’d hope so.”

They sit in silence for a bit as they start to eat. Doctor Winchester starts with his carrots, Gadreel starts with his potatoes. When they’ve both eaten a decent chunk of each side, Gadreel speaks. 

"How often will Delilah wake? And when will it be longer than a temporary consciousness?"

"There’s no way to know that, Gadreel. People will wake up when they want to wake up, regardless of medical opinion. It’s a good sign she did, and we’re positive she’ll probably gain consciousness again."

Gadreel puts his fork down. “Your manner of always speaking with probability is not the most reassuring.”

"I don’t peg you as the type of person that’d appreciate me sugarcoating things. I also don’t get paid to do that."

"I suppose."

"Is that your go to when you don’t have anything nice to say?" teases Doctor Winchester. 

"I think the proper response to that is ‘wouldn’t you like to know?’"

Doctor Winchester snorts before bringing his coffee up to his lips. 

-

Once again, Gadreel sits uncomfortably in the chair for patients in his therapist’s office. He does not like how often he had agreed to come in, and he finds it strange how available her schedule had been for Gadreel. He wants to know, but it is none of his business. Maybe one or several of her clients terminated her services just before Gadreel called and scheduled his first appointment.  

Gadreel tries to bury his growing discomfort; a repeat performance of his shower episode would be unsettling. His grip on the chair’s armrest gets tighter. The voice of his therapist cuts through his thoughts. 

"You’re tenser than usual for the first few minutes. You needn’t feel like you have to hide from me for what you said last session. I’m not going to judge you for what happened; Abner’s death wasn’t your fault."

"Did you not pay any attention to what I said last session?" 

The statement is the harshest thing Gadreel has heard his voice go to anyone other than himself or Castiel in a long time. He swallows, and he steals a glance at his therapist. If the statement or harshness affected her, she has done well to not show it. 

"I did, Gadreel. How were you to know that your other friend was a murderer?"

Gadreel closes his eyes. “No one else trusted him, so why did I?”

The sound of something hitting the office desk echoes. Gadreel imagines his therapist set her clipboard down. More noises start, the sound of a chair moving and the sound of a drawer opening. Then there is footsteps. Startled, Gadreel’s eyes fly open when he feels a touch to his hand. His therapist pries his fingers away from the armrest and places a stress ball into his palm. She immediately returns to her seat. 

Confused, Gadreel looks at her. She shrugs, says, “My chair doesn’t take kindly to people clawing it. You were going to hurt yourself on it; there’s a wire sticking out somewhere.”

"Then why not replace it?"

"Because stress balls are better than my chair to white knuckle. And it shocks most people out of their headspace when I touch them. Or it upsets them further, but that wasn’t the case here."

Gadreel raises a sceptic eyebrow. That hardly seems like a good strategy. What if someone reacts violently? He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, and he waits for his therapist to say something. Anything.

-

The house smells like cinnamon. Gadreel’s face screws up in confusion despite himself, and he cautiously enters the kitchen. Inside, there are cinnamon buns and a messy Castiel, who is cleaning the counter.

"…Castiel?"

His brother runs a nervous hand through his hair. “I’ve been excited all day. Gadreel, I don’t know. Baking is supposed to be a good thing.”

"Where did you hear that from?"

"…Nora, who I probably shouldn’t listen to."

Gadreel does not know who Nora is, but he nods nonetheless. He also grabs a pastry. Regardless of his brother unusual use of his excitement, Gadreel appreciates the food. Castiel outdid himself.

"How was your session?"

"I don’t want to talk about it."

Castiel throws his dishrag into the sink, the line of his shoulders betraying how tired he is. “Well, I think you should. I don’t want a repeat of last time. Gadreel, I can’t do that again.”

"I did not me–"

"I don’t care!" Castiel looks at him sharply. "I appreciate you going to therapy. I don’t mind being here. I enjoy seeing you after so long, being let back in. But, so help me God, I won’t watch you combust."

"You won’t."

"Are you working through your issues at therapy?"

Gadreel straightens. “I find it unfair you are willing to pass judgement about the speed of which I discuss things in my sessions. You assured me that I could take as long as I need.”

"I did." Castiel deflates some. "But I…Gadreel, I’m just worried about you. And frustrated."

Gadreel remains stiff. “I am talking things out, and I would prefer to not have to rehash things more than I need to. I will try not to worry you further.”

"That’s not what this is about. You’ve never had…flashbacks or attacks or whatever happened to render you like that in the shower." Castiel pauses. "Have you?"

"Not recently."

"Then I think I should be worried."

"I am working through things. Did you think I would remain unaffected? Did you not als–"

"I concede the goddamn point, Gadreel."

Castiel retreats from the kitchen, and Gadreel finishes cleaning up.

-

The shower is cold.

-

It is around lunch time when it happens. Gadreel had been tweaking the last details on his line art when he heard it: Delilah’s voice. It takes all of his effort to carefully place the canvas on the floor instead of letting it hit up against the hospital bed as he shifts closer. 

"Delilah?"

She does not verbally respond, but she tries to look at him. Gadreel smiles softly before worrying if he needs to call for a nurse or if the machines hooked up to Delilah are enough. He grips Delilah’s hand tight, careful not to hurt her. The call button gets pressed just in case. 

Delilah grimaces, and Gadreel hopes that she is allowed pain medication. He hopes her being unconscious for so long did not put her body in too much stress for it; Delilah has a broken leg and numerous fractures along with bruises and cuts. Gadreel has not been injured in most of the same places, but he knows that injuries like this hurt a lot. 

A nurse rushes into the room. He makes it clear Gadreel is the way, and Gadreel moves both himself and his things away from the bed. Shortly after, the nurse is checking how lucid Delilah is. She has trouble clearly enunciating words, but she seems to be aware of what is happening. The nurse continues questioning and testing for some time, and then he explains that he’s going to give her something for the pain. Gadreel watches as the nurse does something with Delilah’s IV. 

He focuses his attention on the nurse’s face when he turns, who murmurs to Delilah that he needs to talk with her father for a moment. The door gets closed behind them.

"She’ll likely be a bit out of it from the pain medication, and she might fall asleep. Don’t panic if she does; right now, it’ll just be sleep."

Gadreel nods, slowly. “Are you sure?”

"Yes, sir. You’ll call if anything changes?"

"Of course."

The nurse goes to help someone else, and Gadreel goes back into Delilah’s room. She smiles weakly at him.

"Hello, Delilah." Gadreel admits he chokes on her name.

"Hi, Gad." She picks at her sheet. "How’s Mikayla? Her dad?"

Gadreel cups Delilah’s hand with his. “In the hospital as well. They are alright. None of their injuries were major.”

He gets a sleepy hum in response. Gadreel resists the urge to hug Delilah; with her injuries, it would be painful for her. Slowly, Delilah drifts off, and Gadreel texts his brother that the doctors think Delilah is awake for good this time. He warns Castiel that she is sleeping now.

Castiel responds quickly, a declaration that he is on his way and that he is so happy.

-

The two of them are still awkward from last night, but the news that Delilah is basically confirmed to be on the road to recovery is enough to let them sit together peacefully and ignore the tension. Castiel asks for a recount of what happened, and Gadreel obliges. Relief and excitement are clear to read on Castiel’s face. 

"So she’s alright?"

"For the moment."

Castiel sighs. “You’re starting to sound like the doctor. Take the good, Gadreel.”

"I am viewing this in the positive, brother."

"Alright. Shouldn’t he have stopped by?"

"Nurses know just as much as doctors, Castiel."

Castiel looks at his brother harshly for a moment. “I’m aware of that. But don’t doctors usually have charts to sign when their patients’ status changes?”

"I am not an expert despite how often I end up in hospitals, brother."

"I wasn’t saying you were. On the subject of doctors, what do you think of Doctor Winchester?"

"He is good at his job. He cares a lot."

His brother rolls his eyes. “Obviously. I heard he’s taken you to the cafeteria eat a few times.”

"He did."

"So I’m asking how he seems personally, Gadreel."

Gadreel thinks his face shows his confusion. “Why?”

"Because I think you need more friends, and he’s the only person you interact with in sight."

"I–He is kind. He seems passionate."

"Uh huh?"

"He likes coffee, and he ate healthy foods at lunch."

Castiel huffs. “We’re in a hospital, of course he ate healthy food. He sounds nice.”

"What do you think of him?"

"I like him. I haven’t gotten to interact with him much, though."

Gadreel watches as Castiel shifts in his seat. “How do you think he views the two of us?”

"I’m not him, am I?" He shrugs. "He seems to like us. I don’t know how much of that is professional courtesy and a doctor’s worry, though."

"I guess we will have to put the friendship thing on hold."

Castiel nods, and the two drift into silence.

-

The next few days proceed in much the same manner. Delilah is transferred into another room, and Gadreel and Castiel sit with her. She stays awake for longer and longer periods each time she wakes up. She is administered pain medication, and she asks about Mikayla every time she wakes. The third day Delilah asks, Gadreel goes to ask Mikayla’s father directly about how the two of them are doing and inform them Delilah is completely awake now. Mikayla is ecstatic to hear her friend is doing better, and her father asks Gadreel to stay awhile. Hesitant, Gadreel does. 

When Gadreel returns to Delilah’s room, Castiel is telling Delilah about some of his annoying customers that he has had to deal with at his job. Delilah’s face is fixed in horror at some of the stories his brother is recounting. Gadreel feels a small smile tug at his lips watching them. 

He joins them in his customary chair. Delilah gives him a smile, her disgust at Castiel’s tales still etched on her face. Gadreel goes for her hand, and she allows it before turning back to Castiel, who continues on and on until Delilah yawns. Softly, Castiel trails off. Delilah, however, demands he keeps going. She is not going to fall asleep just yet.

-

The shower water spouts down into the tub, and Gadreel watches from outside the curtain. Things are going well, and he still feels the need to do this. 

He stays under the hot spray for as long as he believes he can get away with without causing his brother worry. Only then does he attempt to wash himself.

-

Therapy prickles at his everything. Gadreel does not know if it is the concept or just Doctor Roessler still. The lack of distinction annoys him. 

Doctor Roessler had handed him the stress ball first thing, and Gadreel had accepted it. It does feel much better to squeeze it than the armrest, as he learned last session. 

"What would you like to talk about today, Gadreel?"

"Things are looking up. Delilah woke up a few days ago."

The therapist smiles. “That’s good to hear. How is she?”

"She is well. They transferred her to a different part of the hospital, and she is staying awake longer and longer."

"How much more do they want to keep her there?"

Gadreel shrugs. “Another week or two.”

"Hmm." 

Doctor Roessler switches which leg she has over which. It is her tell, Gadreel has learned, for when she does not know what else to say. Gadreel does not know what else to say, either.

-

Breakfast is a quiet affair. Today, it is toast and juice. Castiel texts Balthazar to let him know how he is doing, and Gadreel simply eats. On his toast he has nothing, and his brother has peanut butter. 

Once breakfast is finished, they head out to the hospital, and Gadreel leads the way to Delilah's room, painting supplies tucked away in his portfolio. Castiel has his laptop and movies that Delilah enjoys. They settle in for the day, and the sound of Nemo in the background as he paints is relaxing to an immense degree.

-

It is a surprise when Gadreel bumps into Doctor Winchester in the cafeteria. Looking at the situation, Gadreel thinks he should not be, but he is nonetheless. When the doctor sees that it is Gadreel, he smiles brightly. 

"Hey, Gadreel. Fancy seeing you here on your own."

Gadreel nods to acknowledge the statement. "Delilah woke up."

"I know. She transferred out of my...jurisdiction, I guess you can say. I don't usually deal with the awake patients. We've got a lot of doctors here."

Once again, Gadreel nods. 

"So, have lunch with me?"

Gadreel hesitates. "I am supposed to bring food up for my brother."

"Raincheck, maybe?" He sounds sincere in his offer. 

"Raincheck, Doctor Winchester."

Doctor Winchester smiles. "I guess now I can say: call me Sam."

"I suppose you can say that now."

"Uh huh."

"You are not going to let that go, are you? You will find I say it more often than you think I do."

"Then, I guess I'd better try to stick around and learn that."

Gadreel raises an eyebrow as they move towards the food line. "You are flirting, are you not?"

"I mean, I guess?"

"Is it not...tacky to do that during work hours?"

Sam shrugs. "I'm on my break, if it makes you feel better."

"Do you do this with all recently former guardians of patients?"

"No, and that jealousy trick doesn't really work for you."

Gadreel blinks. "I am not trying to deliver a trick?"

"Oh shit." Sam looks embarrassed. "Uh, well, some people flirt like that. You didn't pull it off right, um, obviously because you were genuinely curious about it and not flirting."

"Right."

"Okay, so. Now that I've made a fool of myself, how's Delilah doing? I probably should have asked that first."

"She is doing well. Currently, she and my brother are watching Megamind." 

Sam puts together a salad as they walk down the line. "I've never gotten around to that one. How is it?"

"It is alright." Gadreel collects sandwiches for both himself and Castiel.

"Mm." Sam steers them out of the food line. "Are we going to accidentally meet in the cafeteria again or can I get your number?"

"You are very forward."

Sam shrugs. "I like you, and you haven't been uncomfortable with it, right?"

"No, I do not mind it." Gadreel swallows. "I am not looking for anything, at the moment. If that is what you are hoping."

"Right, right. That's cool. I just want to keep seeing you."

Gadreel nods, and he offers Sam his phone. Sam puts in his number one handed, sending himself a text with a smiley face. Gadreel frowns.

"I do not use faces."

"Well, good thing I know that I sent that text, not you."

At the exit of the cafeteria now, Gadreel awkwardly looks at Sam. The doctor shoos him off with his free hand.

-

"So, how was the lunch line?"

Gadreel hands his brother his sandwich. "It was the usual. I figured you would not want another serving of potatoes."

"I wouldn't, thank you."

Delilah looks unhappily at the sandwiches. "I want one, too."

"The doctors bring you a completely balanced lunch that you are able to eat at noon, Delilah."

She makes an annoyed face. "It doesn't taste good."

"Neither do these sandwiches, really," chimes Castiel. 

Delilah shoots him an unimpressed look. Castiel ignores it to take his first bite, and Gadreel does the same. They eat as Megamind concludes, and then Castiel stretches. He then asks if Gadreel has seen Doctor Winchester since Delilah moved rooms. 

"I saw him in the cafeteria today. He and I exchanged numbers."

"Who's that doctor?" Delilah asks.

"He's the one who saw you through your initial visit after you moved from the emergency section." He turns to Gadreel. "What do you mean you exchanged numbers?"

"Sam flirted shortly, and I explained I was not looking for a relationship of that nature. He acknowledged that, and numbers we exchanged."

Castiel stares at his brother. "That's fast. What have you two been up to when I wasn't here?"

"Talking?"

"Well, good for you, I guess. I'm happy you were straightforward telling him you don't need a relationship right now."

Castiel's statement carries a judgmental undertone, and Gadreel wants to lash out at his brother. He is aware he is not in a good place emotionally. Mindful of Delilah and that he also may be reading into his brother's tone, he says nothing. 

-

The water hits him hard, ice cutting through him. The motionless lasts for only a few short moments. He cannot keep allowing himself to go on like this if he wants to improve himself. 

His life is looking to be heading towards a good spot now, and he should try to not let himself ruin it before it begins. 

It takes a lot of mental effort, but Gadreel turns the faucet towards a middle temperature.  



End file.
